


Sweet Cliché

by Eratoschild



Series: EC's Kinktober 2018 [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: F/F, Kinktober, Mirror Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-20 19:36:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16144094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eratoschild/pseuds/Eratoschild
Summary: “Now,” Luna continues with a sweet smile, “You are in the bed of one very willing virgin princess.”...“I suppose I should… be gentle?” Crowe asks, teasing.





	Sweet Cliché

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Kinktober 2018, day 4, mirror sex

Soft, full lips meet the back of her hand. “Lady,” a low voice murmurs against her skin and Luna is suddenly pulled, gently, toward the bed.

Her free hand touches her own lips. “Oh my,” she almost giggles. A shiver goes through her at the thought of the forbiddenness of this.

Before she’d even realizes it, she’s on the bed, Crowe is kneeling beside, facing her, a strong arm around her back, gently lowering her against a pillow, trailing fingers over her collarbone, across her breast. There’s the merest hint of a touch of a nipple, and suddenly Luna is aware of just how aroused she is right now as that brush over taut skin sends a shock singing along her nerves. 

She looks into those liquid brown eyes, the silky lips and sliver of tongue flicking quickly across them. She can see apprehension, hesitation. “Are you…inexperienced? You seem nervous right now,” she asks gently. She doesn't think this is the case but it does not do to assume such things. 

“Um, not exactly,” Crowe replies, a slight dryness to her voice. “Just, well, this isn’t exactly appropriate.”

“Tell you what,” Luna says, reaching up to gently caress her cheek. “If you’ve no personal objection to bedding me, if we should be caught, and I do not think we will, I will tell them I commanded you. You can’t get in trouble for following my command.”

She glances over to the mirror again just as Crowe covers her hand with her own. “I can’t let you take the responsibility for me disobeying orders.”

“As you choose,” Luna says, freeing her hand and trailing it down Crowe’s jaw, her neck, between her breasts. “If you don’t wish it, I’ll bear no hard feelings.”

“It’s not that I don’t want- Six. I’m going out of my mind looking at you. I just…”

Luna watches calmly, patiently, when Crowe says no more, she considers the situation. She hadn’t set out to seduce her guard, when she’d been informed one was to accompany her to her wedding, she’d expected some older, stuffy military man. When a woman arrived on a motorcycle with a body like that poured into a skintight catsuit and a face to match on top, who couldn't have been more than four, perhaps five years older than herself, Luna had suddenly found herself in a maelstrom of want for this…Soldier? Knight? She isn’t quite clear exactly what a _Glaive_ is. She’d seen Crowe train during some of her free hours, inconspicuously studied her, this perfect storm of strength, beauty and intelligence and … freedom, it seemed. Luna envied her but what’s more, she felt desire for her, and over the days, was very much getting the sense that there was a mutual attraction.

She takes Crowe’s hand in her own, kisses the back of it.

“Tell me what you’re afraid of?”

A pause. “Well, Drautos having my hide, for one.”

“Who is this Drautos?” Luna asks.

“Drautos is my boss, captain of the Glaives.”

“Ahhh, I see.” She makes a note this information in case she should need it later. It would simply not do to have Crowe land in trouble on her account. 

“And then of course there’s the King. And he would likely try me for treason.” 

“Ah, yes, of course, an understandable concern,” Luna says pensively, then continues, “It’s not likely the king will find out, unless someone else finds out and tells him. There's no one else here with us, I think that danger quite small.” Luna reaches up, hand lightly at the back of Crowe’s head, pulls her down to a soft kiss, slow and sensual, their lips barely pressing together at first, then more solidly.

“You know that there’s really no danger of anyone finding out unless they’re told, or unless they were to walk in, which they almost certainly will not. These are my rooms and the doors are all locked from the inside.”

It’s Crowe whose lips part first, tongue slipping out, seeking its way between Luna’s lips, readily opening just enough to grant access, they move and flow together, a faint taste of lemon on her mouth – Luna had noticed her pop what must have been be a candy into her mouth earlier. She pulls back for a moment, observing

Deep brown eyes gazed down at her, and Luna can’t resist another glance. Mirror Crowe and Luna are about to…well, it _looks_ like there’s a lot less trepidation in their world, at least.

“Now,” Luna continues with a sweet smile, “You are in the bed of one very willing virgin princess.” She pauses, allowing her words to sink in. “Do you wish to proceed?”

“Virgin princess?” Crowe smirks. “Well if that’s not a cliché. But when you put it like that, I guess I can’t deny the Lady what she wants.”

She smiles to Luna– in-the-mirror as the response with no words, is Crowe slowly pushing her down against the pillow. Crowe-in-the-mirror does the same. And she’s looking up, reaching up, as the woman above her takes a long breath, kisses her softly, but insistently, a hand slides up her stomach until fingers find a nipple, the texture of the lace rasping over her breast, teasing the nipple to hardness. Her breath comes in a sigh, eyelashes fluttering. Lips pull away from hers as Crowe dips to take the other nipple between them, through the lace, prodding gently with her tongue.

“Please, more,” she whispers as fingers, a little on the rough side, trail lightly over her lace-covered skin, finding the border where it ends and her leg starts, slipping under the fabric, dancing delicately along the elastic edge. 

She wonders if her own cheeks are as pink as Luna–in-the-mirror and sends a silent “Thank you” to whoever it was who assigned this escort detail.

“I suppose I should… be gentle?” Crowe asks, teasing. “Since we’re being cliché and all.”

Luna can't help but giggle, feeling her cheeks warm further. She bites her lip and flutters her eyelashes prettily. “Why, of course,” she says, looking away, making a show of demureness. “Please.”

One of Crowe’s hands moves between her thighs, gently pushing them apart, she opens them willingly, inhaling sharply as a finger rubs over the scrap of fabric between her legs. She can feel it slide easily over the wetness of her arousal.

Crowe leans down, moves her hand away and then another source of pressure – her tongue, finds its way over the fabric, the thin barrier diffusing the sensation ever so slightly, making her arch against the warm mouth. Gods. This was nothing like touching herself. She whispers a string of curses, then bites her lip, she shouldn’t talk like that.

Crowe pauses, looking up at her with one cocked eyebrow. “You like that?”

“Oh yes,” she replies, voice a little breathy. “It feels so good. Please don’t stop.”

Without another word, Crowe presses and flicks her tongue against the fabric again. Luna’s hand drifts to one of her nipples, rolling it between her fingertips, Crowe pauses, gets up on her knees, starts rubbing with her fingers again and moves to lean down and take a nipple between her lips.

“You’re beautiful like that, Princess,” the words are spoken against her skin, she can only imagine, too lost in the hands and mouth on her to worry about Luna – in the mirror now.

A thumb draws circles lightly over her clit, fingertips press against her, a little lower, she can feel the fabric move under their pressure, slipping over the wetness of her arousal.

“Please,” she nearly begs, breathless. “Use your mouth…down…” she trails off as Crowe moves to do as asked, and Luna returns to pinching and tweaking her own nipples.

The tongue and breath against her clit push her closer and closer to the edge. A tiny part of her wants to clap a hand over her mouth, to still the sounds she’s making, but the part of her not wanting to worry about self consciousness is winning out.

Crowe’s tongue flicks and circles more insistently against her clit. She lets the sensation and pressure push her over the edge, letting out a cry as her body tenses, then arches against Crowe, licking and sucking at her through her climax, her hips jerking, thighs twitching.

“Goodness,” she finally says as she regains her breath, smiling up at Crowe. “You are simply wonderful…”


End file.
